


So, There's a Ghost in Klaus's Closet

by Muddell



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, But not Ben, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Fluff, Gen, He deserves all the waffles in the world, Hurt/Comfort, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Klaus's ghosts can get shredded by a wood chipper, No Incest, Pre-Canon, Protective Allison Hargreeves, Protective Ben Hargreeves, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Protective Luther Hargreeves, Protective Number Five | The Boy, Protective Siblings, Protective Vanya Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Sibling Bonding, The fact I have to type that is a problem, they really suck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26076553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muddell/pseuds/Muddell
Summary: A series of one shots where Klaus's siblings helped him with his ghosts...And that's it. Take it or leave it but please take it and read it.
Relationships: Allison & Ben & Diego & Number Five | The Boy & Klaus & Luther & Vanya, Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 10
Kudos: 122





	1. Allison Could've Straight Up Murdered the Closet Man but she Cuddles Klaus Instead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The closet man is a dick. Allison is the best sister ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! Cya at the bottom?

**Age 4: Allison**

Four has always heard them.

There was whispering when he used the downstairs bathroom, when One or Five chased him down the stairs, and again when him and Six played in the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

Slippery sounds and broken phrases dredged up from the dusty corners of his home.

It wasn't even limited to the mansion-he can still remember when their nannies brought them for a rare visit to a nearby park. While Two tried to push him on the swing set frigid murmurings had crawled into his ears. He cried till him and all six sulky siblings had to leave.

But this time, it was different.

This time the senseless words were stronger and strung together in ways that gave them meaning.

Four drew his cover up to wrap around his shoulders tighter.

"...boy...come...here."

Every word made the shadows grow. They crawled over the floor and swarmed the moonlight pooling over the hardwood. With what little light managed to slip in from the window Klaus watched the breath he exhaled dissipate from a cloud into the icy air of his room.

"...you can...hear...me..."

Tears welled up in his eyes and Four bit back a sob.

"...see...me..."

Four shook his head as a violent shiver rocked his frame.

This time when the pressure in his throat and chest swelled he let out a shuddering gasp and began to cry earnestly.

"N-no!" Four choked out. "I c-can't!"

But it didn't matter what he said.

The whispering only got sharper and faster and the dark only seemed to get heavier and thicker, and Four was scared, and crying, and he just wanted it to be daytime-

_Shreeeeek._

The noise cut through the sound of Four's hiccups, suddenly leaving the room quiet.

He sniffled tentatively, the stillness settling as heavily on his chest as the fluttering panic.

And for a moment, nothing else happened.

It didn't last.

Where the closet door had just scraped open a sudden movement came from within the racks of his clothes.

Four sat, frozen. Limbs weighed with a painful fogginess. Watching.

Inside the closet the cold seemed to solidify, silver mist brushing together into the warped silhouette of a man, the wavering shape of his head poking out from the murky dark depths. One gray and wispy hand curled around the door frame, the other reached out and pointed crookedly to where Four cowered on his bed.

He couldn't even manage a scream.

"Boy...Number-boy...good boy..." The Closet Man's waxy face shifted into a rigid smile. "See me..."

With each word the Closet Man grew more solid and inched out into the room a little more. In response Four pushed himself against his headboard, casting frantic glances in the direction of the door to the hallway. Closed, by order of his dad.

"Help...me..."

"I-I don't wanna!" Four waited, a shuddering statue, as the Closet Man stalked forward. Closer and closer. "I can't! I-I don't wanna! I don't wanna!"

By now the Closet Man was at the foot of the bed. The ratty sleeves of his fluttering robe sinking intangibly through the mattress.

"...yes..."

"NO!"

Four squeezed his eyes shut, driving under the covers and sobbing frantically. "Stop it...stop it! No! No! NO!"

He waited for an icy hand to reach out and wrap around his ankle. Tug him out and hold him struggling before the impassive grin of this new face for the whispers-

"Four? You okay?"

...What? That wasn't the Closet Man...

He poked his head out, the blanket still covering from the bridge of his nose down. "Three?"

Three stood in the open doorway of his room. She was wearing a classic pajama set...the nighttime equivalent of formal wear. The reason for her impromptu midnight stroll evident in the way her hair hung in tangled ringlets. Tossing and turning. Three had never been an easy sleeper.

But none of that mattered to Four.

"Th-three," Four forced out. His breathing still sped up in panic, even though constant glances were enough to assure him the Closet Man had retreated from the foot of his bed. Gone for now.

Frowning, Three closed the door sloppily behind her and made her way to the bed. "Wha's wrong?"

Klaus wanted to tell her. He wanted to talk about the paralyzing ice that seized him when the Closet Man was talking, and then worse, coming towards him. He wanted to explain to Three how dangerous it was and rely on her to figure out what to do next.

But his tongue felt thick and useless and his jaw was snapped close unhelpfully. The words he wanted to say got muddled and were unable to leave his head.

"There was...o'er there...a m-man...and he was scarwy and-"

"I's alright Four," Three assured him. "It was another dream. A bad one."

Four was certain it _was not._ But Three had climbed up into the bed at that point and forced her way under the covers. And she was warm and the goosebumps spanning the surface of his skin had receded. With Three there his breath no longer hung in the air like fog and the Closet Man didn't swirl around ominously in gray waves.

"And I'm here." Three's teeth shone brightly in the moonlight freely washing over his room. "I'll save you. From all the monsters."

Four turned away from the closet hesitatingly.

"And from the Closet Man?" He waited with baited breath, if Three revoked her offer he had no idea what he'd do.

"'Course I will."

Four burrowed deeper into the warm covers and Three wrapped her arms around him in a sloppy embrace.

"...'kay."

They spent the rest of the night in silence. Four wiggled for a couple minutes, and Three ended up with just one arm slung over his chest as she drooled into his pillow, while he laid curled into her side.

But it worked.

And even though they both had to run extra in the morning once their dad found out, to Four, it was worth it.

The Closet Man didn't come back that night. No whisper, nothing.

And he wouldn't be back for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I took some liberties with this...kinda headcannoned Klaus's powers would have started as like, next to nothing? Before gradually progressing? So they just grow from small whispers and minor details into full fledged mausoleum level? And then teenage years come around and he's at a total 'drug me up Debrah because the dead are assholes' stage?  
> Idk. I tried. Thanks for reading, and I know it was short...but please leave a comment with what you thought?  
> Whichever. Next chap with Five will be posted real soon. Toodles!


	2. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five follows the sound of crying...he's not sure if that turned out to be a bad or good idea. 
> 
> Four just suffers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey...new chapter! :D
> 
> Just as a warning, I have no idea when the kids got their names? So for now they still get numbers...and I don't know what their training schedule was like...so imma just make it really vague. Welp, that's all. 
> 
> Enjooooy!

**Five: Age 8**

Five shoves aside a jacket. Nope. He grabs hold of a closet hanger and slides along another. Nope. Both are winter uniforms. Next is a shirt. And then another. One more.

None are the autumn sweater he needs for the approaching training session.

He spins around on his heel and stalks away from his closet, once more sweeping his gaze across his bed and floor frantically. Not there either.

Five paces back and forth. The clock in the corner of his room ticks along unbothered, the clicks sharp and interrupting the way he racks his memory. He had it at breakfast... early morning training...break...late morning traini-wait. No. Did he have his sweater after break?

Five quickly visualizes the sitting room he spent the break in, feeling a warbling and cold current spring from his hands and envelope him in a blue haze. The haze condenses, flexes, absorbs him-

And it's done. Suddenly he's standing right next to a side table in the sitting room. Granted, a couple feet off from where he pictured, but close enough for him to savor the noticeable progress he's made in his jumping the last few months.

Five smirks. Straightens up. He glances around for the uniform cover up, physical relief lessening the weight on his shoulders when he spies a navy blue sleeve poking out from behind the couch armrest. Bingo.

Grabbing it, he slides the jacket on as he speed-walks down the hall in the direction of the back entrance. He's not confident enough to jump accurately twice in as many minutes and still retain enough stamina for training.

Five checks his watch as he walks (he's the only one of his siblings who insists on wearing one), and takes comfort in the minute hand's distance from the ten. He's going to make it...

The sound of a sob breaks the rhythmic tapping of his feet against the hardwood.

What?

Five hesitates. It's obviously one of his siblings, and normally he wouldn't bat an eye, but the cry had sounded so heavy and jagged. Like a plea for help. And with Mom overseeing training alongside their father no help is coming.

Five glances at his watch again. He's got time. Not a lot. He suspects it's Seven anyway, crying for her normal reasons. And if that is the case, it won't take long for him to poke his head in and make sure, then leave her to it. There's nothing he can do to fix her situation anyway.

So he strides over to the bathroom where muffled gasps are bleeding through, knocks, and briskly opens the door after a few moments of startled uneven breathing.

It's not Seven.

Four is huddled in the clawfoot tub situated in the corner of the room. He's fully dressed. The tub is dry. His hands are tightly clasped over his ears, tears stains gleam on both quivering cheeks, and his chest is heaving. For a second both widely opened green eyes are staring at Five. Then they suddenly aren't. His watery gaze goes flitting towards the sink and Four's trembling renews itself at whatever he finds there.

Five should have gone to training.

Instead, he awkwardly shuffles into the room and lets the door click close behind him. "Four?"

He doesn't seem to notice though, and Five tries again a little louder. "Four? What's wrong?"

Five guesses it has to do with Four's powers. He's always been sensitive, shying away from dark corners, wincing at sounds that aren't there, complaining about things that don't exist.

But something about this is different. This is a...a meltdown. There's no other word for it. Five has never seen Four react like... _this_.

Five isn't worried though. He's not.

"Four!" Five reaches out and clasps both hands over Four's shoulders, giving the smaller boy a rigorous shake. That snaps him out of it.

"F-Five?" Four looks back and forth between Five and different spots around the room in sporadic, desperate, jolts.

"Yes, it's me. Look at me, you idiot." Five reaches out and forces Four's head steady. "At me."

"I, there-I just...F-Five," Four gulps. "They're...They're behind you, F-Five."

Oh. Five was right. The ghosts are the problem.

His brother claimed the undead were looming around them-and Five doesn't feel a cold chill spill down his spine. He doesn't.

But he also tries not to think about it as he reaches back, pawing open the cabinet under the sink and extracting a washcloth. He untangles Four's hands where they cling to his arm, ignoring the quiet whine that follows, and wets the cloth quickly at the sink before crouching down in front of Four's bathtub.

"Here," he mutters. Mom would reach out and wipe the tears from his face herself, but Five can't bring himself to go quite that far. Instead, he unclenches one of Four's fists and shoves the offering into his hand. "Wipe your face. C'mon, do it."

Four bats the washcloth down one side of his face before he freezes, cringing away from a point over Five's left shoulder.

Five doesn't want to know.

"Four, wipe your face," he repeats. "Whatever you're seeing, it can't hurt you."

He hopes.

"But training starts in..." he checks his watch, cringes. "A minute ago. And Dad can make you run until you throw up. That'll hurt."

But that doesn't seem to reach him.

So Five reaches out and knocks his knuckles against Four's skull, keeping his stare away from over his shoulder. "Stop it. Stop looking."

"O-Okay." Four goes to clumsily swipe at his face again. "Okay."

But he falters and his breathing gets dangerously close to hyperventilating.

Not. Good.

Five snatches one of Four's hands and presses it against his chest. "Like this, breath. _Four_ , like this."

Five sucks in an exaggerated breath and Four tries to do the same. Five forces out an exaggerated breath and Four tries to do the same. The process repeats, until eventually, Four is able to get his gasping under control.

Finally. Five grabs the washcloth and, without meeting Four's eyes, brusquely rubs away the tear streaks running down his face. "There. All good."

Not good. His watch says they're four minutes late and Five is just surprised no one has tracked them down yet.

Five stand up. Turns to leave-

"Five!" Four scurries up and out of his bathtub, sliding uncomfortably close to him with a pleading look. Five groans.

"C'mon, we have training."

"But...Five..." Four grabs hold of his arm.

"What?" Five tries not to snarl, but it's getting to be a dangerously long time since ten.

"Dad...Dad's going to be mad."

Five frowns. Four is right...their father is always scolding any sign of Four shying away from the ghosts and his powers. If Five tells him what happened, explains why Four's meltdown made him late, there's no telling how upset he'll be with the other boy.

"I won't tell," Five decides, and Four looks as surprised as Five feels.

"Really?"

"Really. Now let me _go_."

Five jerks his arm out of Four's grip and opens the door-

"Five!"

" _What?!_ " This time Five really does snarl.

Four, still pressed in next to Five, looking upward with his wide green eyes, offers a hesitant smile. "Thanks."

* * *

They end up six minutes late. Dad is furious, and difficulty is added to their training in every way he can think of, including running through lunch. Four, lightheaded and physically spent, spends most of the time getting dragged along by a reluctant Five. But a quiet "Thanks" runs through his mind the entire time, and honestly, by the end, Five finds he doesn't really mind any of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that happened. I hope this chap lived up to its predecessor? Surpassed it? I honestly don't know but I'd love to hear what y'all thought about it in the comments? 
> 
> Anyway, Vanya's gonna be up next! Cya!


End file.
